


New Invention

by TheCarnivalCryptid



Category: I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Androids, Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Past Character Death, Read it as romantically as you want, Robots, Science Fiction, Tellexx, You can bend or you can break but they’ll replace you with machines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarnivalCryptid/pseuds/TheCarnivalCryptid
Summary: Tellexx creates a copy of Ryan after his “untimely death.” His best friend Dallon is not happy.Based on the music video/srchprty lore.
Relationships: Ryan Seaman & Dallon Weekes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	New Invention

**Author's Note:**

> If I had a nickel for every time I wrote an android copy being made of a dead person I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t much, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Just being around the bot made Dallon uncomfortable. The familiarity of the appearance, the way that it was a little  _ too  _ realistic. He was essentially staring at his best friend’s corpse.

The van hits a bump and the bot automatically reaches a hand out to steady itself. It doesn’t move its blank gaze from the spot just beyond Dallon’s shoulder.

He misses Ryan. He misses the real one. If he looks anywhere but the bot’s expressionless face he can pretend Ryan is in the van with him, and that makes the loss a bit more bearable.

“How can I assist you?”

Dallon jumps slightly. Besides the faint metallic quality of the voice, it sounded scarily like Ryan.

“You can’t. Off.”

“I do not understand. To make a request, say ‘Command’ and state your request.”

“Command. Off.”

A gentle whirr comes from the bot and it slumps, no longer supporting itself against the seat of the van. Dallon grabs its shoulders in a panic as it slides off the seat towards the floor.

“Command on! Command on!”

The whirring starts up again. “Tellexx bot RS1 engaged. How may I assist you, Dallon Weekes?”

“Just sit there.”

“I do not understand. To make—”

“For god’s sake. Command: Just sit there.”

It falls silent. Dallon picks at a small hole in the sleeve of his jacket. He feels like he should say something.

“Ryan’s hair was blue.”

The bot turns its head to him. “To make—”

“ _ Jeez.  _ No. That was a statement. Ryan’s hair was blue.”

The robot blinks. “My hair is brown.”

“I  _ know  _ that.” Dallon snaps. “The real Ryan dyed his hair blue. They didn’t like it when he came in with blue hair, said it wasn’t professional or something. That’s why he kept it that way.”

“Oh,” the robot says. The way that it says that simple word is so  _ human  _ that Dallon almost laughs. “Is that why you are sad?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have been programmed to read human body language in order to enhance my skills as a performer. Are you sad that my hair is not blue?”

“No, I’m sad that you’re dead. I mean, I’m sad that Ryan’s dead,” Dallon says. 

“I am an artificial intelligence created by Tellexx. I am not human. I have never been alive, and I cannot die.”

“Well, you’re also not Ryan. He was my best friend, and he’s dead. You replaced him.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Dallon James Weekes. I’m sure he is in a better place. I am here for you. Those struggling with a loss are invited to speak to a Tellexx therapy-droid. This is an automated response triggered by the phrase ‘he’s dead.’ if this has been an error, please disregard this message.”

Leave it to Tellexx to make  _ mourning  _ unemotional. He remembered it being just as weird when he had found out Ryan was dead.

He had been walking into the Tellexx building to drop off the edited copy of their music video example. The one that was supposed to be shown to schools or something. He could tell something was wrong right away, his coworkers seemed to be on edge from the second he walked in the door.

He knew something was really up when he saw Ryan was on time, with brown hair, typing diligently away at a computer at 7 am without a single cup of coffee. 

“What did they do to you?” he had asked then, half-joking. Then Ryan had looked up with those blank glass eyes and he knew.

Well, subconsciously he knew. The other part of his brain was sure it was a joke at first, and then certain Ryan was alive and they just made a copybot —nicknamed “zombies” by employees because of the rather grim reason most of them were created— to be a stunt double or something for a music video or to play another instrument in iDKHOW. 

Then he had been handed the memo, and was generously provided a single tissue and a whole five minutes to get over it before he was expected back at his desk.

The bot speaks again, breaking his train of thought. “Would you like me to call in for a therapy-droid?”

“No. That’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Studies have shown talking about a loved one helps with grief.”

“No thanks.” No offense to the bot, who seemed perfectly agreeable, but the last thing Dallon wants to do is reminisce upon fond memories of his friend to an exact copy of him. 

“Talking about your Ryan will also help me to be more like him, and help me to be a successful and realistic duplicate.”

“Fine. He was funny and kind and had more talent in his pinky finger than most people have in their whole body. He cared about people, and he cared about music, and he was one-of-a-kind. You’ll never be like him, You’ll never even get close to being like him.” Dallon swipes at a tear in his eye that threatens escape. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t.”

The van falls into an awkward silence yet again. Dallon begins to hum under his breath. Across from him, the robot is staring into space, seemingly deep in thought. He briefly wonders if he caused the poor machine to have an identity crisis. Maybe it would gain sentience and go start an android revolution against the humans or something. Dallon could get behind that, it sounds cool as hell.

Ryan would’ve also loved a robot rebellion. He wasn’t the sci-fi geek Dallon is, but he could still appreciate how awesome it would be to see the human world governments toppled by the very things that they had created. Maybe if they helped the uprising the androids would let them live to see what a world ruled by machines looked like. 

“I do not recognize the music you are humming. If you tell me, I can add it to my repertoire of songs.” Okay, so it wasn’t thinking about rebelling. Disappointing.

“Uh, it’s called Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds. Why is Tellexx having you collect songs?” 

“Tellexx has not told me to do anything but play the drums when you need them. This is a personal project. Listening to music makes me more productive. They don’t know.”

Dallon had no idea robots could like music. Well, have it ‘increase their productivity.’ Maybe he is just projecting feelings onto an inanimate object, as humans do. “Huh. Well, I’d listen to the actual Lucy In The Sky if you get the chance. It’s really beautiful.” 

“Are you no longer upset with me?”

“I was never upset with you. You’re a robot. I’m upset with… I don’t know. Tellexx. Everything.” Dallon doesn’t know why he’s bothering to explain himself. If he had said yes, the bot would’ve left him alone. Maybe that’s why he didn’t. It isn’t Ryan, but it’s the closest thing he has and he needs that slight familiarity. “We’re almost at the recording studio, I can show you more music later.”

“Recording 1: prepared. Say yes to continue,” the bot says.

“What?” It was probably a glitch, but now Dallon is curious about what recording 1 could be. 

“You have responded: ‘What?’” A small clip of Dallon’s voice is played. “Invalid response. Recording cancelled.”

Whoops. “I mean yes! Yes, play recording 1!” The slight fondness he had gotten for the robot was now replaced with frustration. So much for Artificial  _ Intelligence. _

The bot became stiff, a faint red light pulsing from behind its eyes. “Recording 1 playing.”

Dallon can only pick out a few words from the static, and what he hears just about stops his heart.

_...Don’t want to die… please… do better... don’t kill me!... _

“Recording 1 complete.”

Dallon blinks slowly, trying to process what he just heard.

“Why do you seem so upset, Dallon Weekes?”

“That was…” Dallon swallows. He feels like he’s being choked. “That was  _ Ryan. _ ”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the slightly confusing ending. It’s meant to be your own interpretation of what happened to Ryan, but if there’s anything I can clear up let me know in the comments. Kudos are very much appreciated as well :)


End file.
